Extreme Tennis
by ElissaCousland
Summary: When tennis prodigy, Claire Farron, meets her new Coach, Fang Yun, sparks will fly... eventually. Flaire.


Author's Note: this was just sitting around in the "half-done" pile, and for some reason, the muse decided to pay a visit and finish it off (the first chapter anyway), much to my amusement and delight. Thanks to original OP who posted the "sexy tennis lessons" prompt, which will be forthcoming, but I needs a little romance before my sexy sometimes, and this is one of those times. This is AU of course, and I think Claire is fairly OOC. Other than that, I hope you enjoy reading this, it was much fun to write!

*EU- Eden University

*BCC- Bodhum Community College

* * *

-Extreme! Tennis-

Ch.1

A loud, thundering cacophony came barreling down the stairs at top speed. The tall, muscular blonde man smiled at his two beautiful champagne-haired daughters. The eldest, Claire, was all decked out in her tennis gear, a short white tank, cut off at the midriff, and pleated white mini-skirt of which the hem barely came to the bottom of her buttocks. Mr. Farron had insisted she wear black short-shorts underneath, to preserve the Farron family's modesty. White ankle socks and a pair of white sport sneakers completed the outfit.

Claire pursed her lips, blew the spiked bangs out of her eyes and adjusted the bag on her shoulder that held all of her gear and her favorite racket. "There's my two favorite girls," Mr. Farron mused while hugging both of them simultaneously, an arm around each. Claire's younger sister, Serah, ate the affection up as she cooed and nuzzled their father affectionately in return. Claire rolled her eyes. She was still miffed about the whole situation.

She didn't need a coach, she had tried to tell him. But Gadot, her personal trainer and agent of sorts, had insisted to Mr. Farron that his daughter needed more intensive coaching, if she was going to make it past the first few rounds of the Cocoon Nationals this year. Given, Claire was a gifted athlete, a rising young star in the tennis world, but even that wouldn't matter much against the caliber of opponents she would face. Last year, Claire had dominated, every single match had ended in a Farron victory.

Claire bit her lip, to hold in a smart remark about how she didn't need another coach , she liked Mr. Gadot just fine, and he'd gotten her this far already. She didn't smart off this time though. After all, she knew, this wasn't the Youth League anymore. Lately, she'd also been going through some emotional changes since her and Serah's mother had divorced their dad the year before. Grow up, much? Who, me? She thought with just an edge of sarcasm that she knew she didn't really mean.

She realized deep down, that a lot more than tennis was at stake this time around. A college scholarship for one, not to mention - and even a healthy dose of youthful arrogance wouldn't allow her to completely assume - a possible spot on the 2012 Summer Olympics doubles team.

There was also another bit of information floating around in her head that made her feel a bit guilty about the hard time she'd been giving her father lately. Word had it, that this Coach Yun was top-dollar. As in best of the best that money could buy. Not like the Farrons were rolling in dough, especially now with the former Mrs. Farron gone. Claire felt a stab of guilt, knowing her father had spared no expense for her training.

So, the usually stoic girl accepted an affectionate hug from her father and her little sister without her usual protest at all the touchy-feely. "Shall we get going then? Wouldn't want to keep Ms. Yun waiting now would we?" Mr. Farron jubilantly acknowledged.

Serah squealed and patted her big sis on the back. "You're gonna be awesome this year, Claire, like always!"

Claire just smiled at her, as they walked out the door and piled into their dad's SUV.

* * *

Cerulean crystals flicked back and forth, systematically assessing the other young tennis prodigies. Out of the corner of her eyes, she could feel more than a few of the other girls staring back at her, some were more blatant than others, having actually stopped their personal conversations to gawk directly at her. She heard someone close to her whisper, "yeah, that's her…Farron-something-or-other."

She huffed indignantly and shifted the weight of her pack on her shoulder. She would have turned to glare at the persons gossiping about her, but her father chose that moment to step aside and introduce her to her new coach.

Claire hadn't paid much attention when they'd walked onto the courts. Most of the girls were lounging about, chatting lazily with one another. A few were practicing their serve at one end of the courts. Most of her attention walking from the car up until now was taken by her possible opponents, since she had no active interest in a new coach. She figured it would probably be some old crotchety perv of a guy, who was likely some washed-up has been pining for his long lost days of glory. What she didn't expect to see was a woman. A young woman at that, not but a few years older than herself. And drop-dead gorgeous.

Claire stared, mouth slightly agape as her eyes quickly gave the woman a once-over. Coach Yun was dressed much as the girls themselves were. White shorts, sport sneakers and a white wife-beater showed off her generous tan. Claire's eyes wandered a little too long over those long, bronzed legs. Coach Yun was obviously an athlete herself, all taut sinews rippling beneath tan flesh with every small movement she made. Like the one she made now, clearing her throat gently to get Claire's attention focused on her face, instead of where those amazingly clear blue orbs had been staring at her chest just a moment ago. Thankfully, the father hadn't seen any of it.

"And you must be Claire," Coach Yun smiled and held out a hand to the awestruck young woman.

Claire snapped out of her daze and blushed as she finally regarded the other woman properly. Wild, dark tresses sprawled lazily around her head to frame the painstakingly detailed exquisiteness of her face. She was tall on the leg, too, so much so, that Claire had to look up at her, and being nearly as tall as her father, Claire hardly had to look up at anyone. Coach Yun was also easy on the eyes. Her eyes were a stunning shade of pale green like polished jade, framed by thick, dark lashes. Dark brows arched perfectly to frame her face in a permanent smirk-like expression that gave off an air of ease that seemed to soothe Claire even as her heart pounded while she stretched out her own hand to return the gesture.

Coach Yun gripped her hand tightly and Claire returned it. Their eyes locked for a moment as each one seemed to size the other up. Finally, Coach Yun pulled away.

"You've got quite a grip there, Claire,"

Before she could stop herself, she tilted her head, a moment of youth spilling from her lips.

"You're not so bad yourself," Claire observed, eyes roving the woman from her legs on up, her voice notably lower in tone, what Fang guessed was a juvenile attempt at a bedroom voice.

Coach Yun slowly cocked one eyebrow.

Claire immediately regretted what she'd said. Fal'Cie! What came over her? How could she say something like that? In front of her dad? Oh Maker! How embarrassing! Her eyes found the dark blue of the rubber safety turf on the ground instead of the clear emerald crystals she could feel boring into her skin, burning her with shame. If she had looked, though, she would have seen they were dancing with delight.

"Hahahaha! Is that so?" Coach Yun belted out a throaty laugh, and Claire was amazed as a shiver ran through her. The smooth falsetto timbre, combined with the thick, heavy lilt to her words, raised tiny goosebumps on her arms. Claire shifted imperceptibly. She always did have a thing for accents.

"Glad I meet up to your standards, _Miss Farron_." Coach Yun offered, in a playful, gently mocking tone.

Claire didn't look up, she was still blushing, but she could feel her father's eyes on her. She heard him whisper a warning, "Be good, Claire,"

Coach Yun must have heard him because she replied with, "Don't worry, Mr. Farron, I'll take good care of her."

Claire heard her father chuckle, "Please, call me Cloud,"

Claire looked up as Coach Yun nodded at the form of her retreating father. "Right. Don't worry, Mr. Cloud."

Claire glanced back to see Serah waving eagerly until she got into the car. Moments later, her father and sister drove away, and Claire was left standing in the presence of the sculpted bronze goddess.

Said goddess closed the distance in one smooth step. Claire had to glance up at her, slightly, but she didn't back away. Not from the heat in those firey emeralds. Coach Yun leaned down, hands on her hips, until their faces were close enough to touch. She spoke clear and low, "So…ya think it's fun to smart off, then?"

Claire blushed again and glanced away, eyes flicking to the side. Before she could answer, Coach Yun continued.

"I don't care who you think are, Farron. Let's get one thing straight. You're the student. I'm the Coach. Got that?"

Claire nervously shifted the weight of her bag up on her shoulder again. Her voice came out in a whisper as her eyes found the floor again. "Yeah."

"Look at me when I'm talking to you, Claire,"

Reluctantly, Claire shifted her eyes back to the impossible beauty of the woman standing over her. She gulped down a breath. Coach Yun's eyes narrowed. Her voice took on a lower tone.

"Take a look around ya, Farron," Coach Yun tilted her head, indicating the other girls. Claire did as she was told and realized that she recognized quite a few faces. These were Bodhum's meanest tennis stars. Again Claire swallowed nervously. She was no longer the big fish in a small pond. Now, as of her 18th birthday, she was in a whole new league. As if to confirm her growing dread, Coach Yun stated the fact. "This ain't the Youth League. Every one of these women would eat you for breakfast, grind up your soul, and spit out your innocence."

Claire swallowed, shifted her weight, and looked her new coach in the eyes. Coach Yun looked at her with deadly sincerity. Her voice dropped nearly to a whisper, a tone that made Claire's arms break out in goosebumps again.

"These girls are great at what they do, Claire," Coach Yun's gaze intensified as she stepped back and eyed the pinkette up and down. The steady, soothing velvet of her voice matched the surety in her eyes as they found Claire's once more. "But…you've got something they don't."

Claire's pale pink brow furrowed gently, uncomprehending. Coach Yun nodded gently, more to herself than to Claire. "I can make a champion out of ya, Farron. But ya gotta want it." The glittering viridian crystals hardened a touch, letting the younger woman know what was at stake, and what she would have to do to achieve it. "When I say jump, Farron, you say How high? When I say Dig, you say How Deep? You give me everything you've got, and when the chips are down, all the cards are on the table and you've got nothing left- that's when you give me one-hundred percent more. Can ya do that, Farron? Ya got what it takes?"

Claire straightened up almost unconsciously, inspired by Coach Yun's words. Something about the charismatic young coach made Claire want to prove herself to her. Prove that she was worthy, that she could be- no, that she _was_, a champion. "Ye-yeah," Claire stuttered.

The smirk that lit Coach Yun's face was endearing, and made Claire want to prove it all that much more. "What's that, Farron? I can't hear you," she goaded, cupping a hand around one ear.

"Yes, Coach!" Claire shouted enthusiastically.

That earned her a genuine smile from the dark-haired woman. "There's a good girl," she mused, and slapped Claire lightly on the rump, "Now fall in with the others. We've got a lot of work to do,"

The shock and abruptness of the action was so sudden that Claire hardly realized what had happened. She wanted to say something, to protest or get angry about it. But the Coach had already walked away, towards the head of the courts. She blew a sharp note of the whistle dangling from her neck.

Claire followed as the other girls lined up into several neat rows, and tried to ignore the pink flush to her cheeks and the little flutter in her chest at Coach Yun's forwardness. Sure, she was attracted to the Coach. Claire could admit that to herself, but…was Coach Yun attracted to _her_? She briefly wondered what Coach Yun thought of her. Was that a flirtatious slap on the rump? Or just something more innocent that didn't mean anything at all? Claire's cheeks burned a darker shade as her eyes discreetly followed the taller woman's movements.

Coach Yun addressed her protégé's. "Alright Ladies! Now that we're all here, let's get started!" The precision with which Coach Yun put them through even the most routine warm-up stretches amazed Claire. This was definitely more intense than the Youth League, and way more intense than high-school .

Sweat dripped from Claire's forehead, trickling a slow path down her face. Her muscles strained with the ache of familiar, yet, decidedly more challenging, movements. She grunted involuntarily on a particularly straining stretch. Similar grunts from her fellows in euphoric pain, echoed hers in the late morning sun. Coach Yun blew sharply on her whistle. A sigh of relief passed through the group of girls as they simultaneously collapsed at the sound of the break whistle.

Claire grunted as she slowly pulled herself to a sitting position. A nearby chuckle caught her attention. She glanced carefully at the girl beside her. The young woman was about her age, give or take a year or two. Dark hair, and equally matched eyes. An amiable personage, if the Cheshire grin on her face meant anything.

The girl giggled and nodded towards Claire. "Intense, huh?"

"Pff, yeah," Claire agreed.

"Coach Yun grinds you into the ground, but…her results speak for themselves,"

Claire grinned, glad to be back into circuit training, despite her body's protests at the new level of intensity. The summer off between graduating high school and preparing for college had left little time to condition for the upcoming season, even though she'd been a shoe-in for Eden U's Extreme! Tennis team, and had been granted immediate acceptance.

"I guess so," Claire shrugged up one shoulder. "We'll just have to wait and see,"

The other girl smiled. "So… are you BCC?"

Claire gave the brunette a half-smile. "EU," she corrected.

The brunette smiled in return. "Oh, ho! Sanctified!" she proclaimed with a short chuckle.

Claire rolled her eyes. "I know. Dumb-ass name for a college team, right?"

"Yeah, but they only take the best players…" "Still," the girl continued, "It's better than the Bodhum Behemoths." the girl scrunched up her nose, "Makes us sound like a bunch of overweight slackers!"

Claire laughed at that thought. Her newfound friend extended a hand. "I'm LeBreau by the way. Guess we won't be seeing each other much, then?"

"Claire Farron," the pinkette offered, "I guess we're just limited to training then,"

"Wow! Farron? Really?" LeBreau glanced at Claire, a somewhat awed look on her face. "…You mean…"

"Uh…yeah…nice meeting you. I'm just gonna go…get a drink…" Claire awkwardly excused herself from the suddenly uncomfortable situation.

LeBreau stared after Claire, a whisper on her breath, "Farron…"

* * *

After warm-ups, the girls were paired off for serving drills. Claire got paired up with a girl named Nabaat. She was a year older than Claire, and though she'd also been in the Youth League, luck had them in separate divisions according to their respective ages. Still, the girl was no pushover. In fact, Claire seemed to recall a certain nickname that had followed the other girl around during her time in the Youth League. "Cruella da Jihl".

Nabaat was every bit the serious competitor. A dangerous gleam shone in her honey-colored eyes, to match the cocky smirk on her lips, and the frightening white glare of her teeth. The object of the drill was for each of the pair to take turns serving and returning. Unluckily for Claire, it was Jihl's turn to serve first. Claire gripped her racquet tightly, body tense, ready to return the incoming serve.

Jihl smacked a clean, hard hit on the ball. Claire closed to move in. The ball unexpectedly dropped from it's height, causing Claire's return to miss, and the small green projectile to whiz past her as she barely managed to maneuver her body away from it. The ball bounced off the far wall and screamed back toward the net, hitting it, before rolling halfway back toward Claire, finally stopping mid-court. Claire glared up at Nabaat as she tossed the ball back at her.

"A little close…" she said, voice low, with an edge of warning.

Nabaat grinned, adjusted her glasses on her nose, as Claire settled back into place, tossed the ball up, and sailed another one straight towards her. This time, the slider hit home, eliciting an _umph_, from the pinkette, who doubled over momentarily, a sneer on her lips as she picked up the ball beside her and drilled it at Nabaat. Nabaat caught the ball in one hand, smirking as Claire rubbed her stomach.

"You're Farron, right?" Nabaat asked, tone mock-curious as she absently bounced the ball on the ground a few times.

Claire's eyes narrowed. "What's it to you?"

Nabaat shrugged, "Nothing at all, hun. It just seems… your reputation greatly exceeds your ability,"

Claire's gut hurt, more with the insult than the assault. Gritting her teeth, she ran towards the incoming ball. Nabaat's eyes gleamed. Claire was determined to wipe the smile from her face.

"Hmph, no wonder your mother left you. I'd certainly be ashamed to call you mine,"

The ball found it's target against her ribs, but Claire hardly felt it at all. Nabaat had tramped on a raw nerve. Claire's lips pulled back from her teeth. She rushed the net and hopped over it swiftly. Her left hand found the collar of Jihl's shirt, to hold the bitch in place. Her right hand cocked backward, fingers closed tight.

Jihl scoffed arrogantly. "Get back on your side of the net, Claire. Wouldn't wanna screw up that scholarship."

Claire paused, breaking eye contact. Jihl continued to taunt her.

"Daddy can't afford EU on his own dime, after all, not with Mum gone, eh?"

Claire growled as her gaze returned to Jihl's face. She shoved Jihl backward, sneering. "Bitch,"

Jihl chuckled amusedly, knowing she had Farron's number, as the pinkette reluctantly retreated to her side of the court, muttering something about rearranging Jihl's face, hands clenched tightly at her sides.

Now it was Claire's turn to serve. A slow, creepy smile showed her enjoyment of the fact to her opponent. She threateningly bounced the ball a few times, as her grin widened from ear to ear.

* * *

Coach Yun made her rounds, marking off each of her clients' progress next to their name on the clipboard she held in her hand. She slowly made her rounds to each of the courts, watched a few minutes and checked off whatever selection of skill her assessment determined: choice, good, fair, poor, unacceptable.

Most of this years prospects ranked highly in all skill categories, with a few unlucky souls falling into the "fair" level. Coach Yun scrawled notes in the margins next to certain names, to remind her later when she was writing out her reports, in which areas certain girls excelled, and where they would need to show improvement.

She glanced up, when her instinctive knowledge of the courts told her she was approaching court #4, the pairing of Lockheart/Trepe. Fang paused curiously. The two girls' attention was elsewhere. They weren't even bothering with drills. The two girls were near their net, apparently engaged in conversation.

Fang quietly approached. The girl nearest Fang -a blonde, called…Fang glanced at her clipboard…Quistis- spoke out loud, not for Fang, but for her opponent, Tifa.

"Wow- they really _are_ trying to kill each other.."

"What?" Fang uttered, completely taken aback by the words the other girl had spoken, "Who?"

Quistis and Tifa both flinched and glanced behind themselves when they heard Fang.

"Oh! Coach!" Quistis said

"S-sorry, Coach!" Tifa said.

Quistis inclined her head forward, and Tifa pointed to court #5. Fang's eyes followed and what she saw caused her jaw to drop open.

In a beautiful display of athleticism, her two highest-ranked clients surged a full-on war with each girl reaching for a ball from a bucket at her side, to slam it with injurious force toward her opponent, only to dodge the inevitable incoming projectile with uncanny agility and speed.

Fang had never seen anything like it, not in recent years anyway. Some critics would have argued that the sport had lost all of the flair and grace it was known for, with the mysterious departure of its most beloved champion, Ashe Farron, some many years ago now.

Coach Yun finally realized with a shock that with the force that Nabaat and Farron were serving- if it could be called that anymore- someone was going to get seriously hurt. Angry now, she raised the whistle that hung around her neck to her lips and blew fiercely, Trepe and Lockhart covering their ears and backing away as the Coach stalked toward court 5.

The other girls stopped short at the first blow of the whistle and turned their heads. Many of them gathered at court #4 where Quistis and Tifa still watched as Coach Yun stalked toward court #5 blowing several times into her whistle, while surprisingly, Nabaat and Farron seemed to ignore her and continued on in their personal little war.

Coach Yun blew on her whistle several times, but Nabaat and Farron acted as though they didn't hear her, so she yelled out a warning "Hey! Cut that out!" Her admonishment fell on deaf ears as the two young women continued to try to maim each other with ever-increasing viciousness.

"Oi! I SAID KNOCK IT OFF!"

Stunned into acquiescence, Claire and Jihl each dropped the ball they were holding and turned to the direction the shout had come from.

There, a seething Coach Yun glared decidedly murderously at them. Claire hung her head, carefully studying the safety turf beneath her feet. Jihl ceded a brilliant smile toward the Coach, but could not fully hide the smirk twinkling in her eyes.

Coach Yun raised a shaking arm and pointed a trembling finger, seemingly barely able to keep her rage under control. "You…and You…" she said pointing at Jihl and Claire respectively, "…In. My. Office. …NOW!"

"The rest of you…" Fang regarded the other girls with a glance over her shoulder, they waited with an air of bated breath, "hit the showers," she finally said, and the other girls sighed in relief at the call of a short day, with a few protests coming from some of the more athletically gifted ones.

* * *

Claire stood in Coach Yun's office, hands clasped onto her racket which she held in front of her. Jihl sprawled lazily in one of the chairs, her legs splayed over one of the arms as she snuggled down into it as comfortably as she could. Heavy footsteps echoed down the hall, and both girls could feel the wrath emanating from each step as they drew nearer.

Finally, the door slammed open and Coach Yun stood there, arms folding over her chest as she kicked the door shut behind her. All was silent for a moment, as if she didn't even know where to begin.

"Just what the hell was the meaning of that? What were you thinking? No, ya know what? I don't even wanna know what you were thinking!"

Fang paused in her tirade, taking a deep breath before she continued, slowly, her voice more even, though with no less venom.

" There are girls… that come from all over Cocoon and Gran Pulse to train here…Why would you throw away your opportunities here! For what?"

Disgusted with even looking at their faces, Fang turned away.

"Twenty laps. Both of you."

Jihl huffed and climbed out of the chair. She left and shut the door behind her.

Claire lingered in the room, feeling the waves of angry energy flowing from Coach Yun's turned back. She swallowed guiltily. Her voice was much softer than she expected when it came out.

"..Coach..?"

Coach Yun startled and turned back to face her. "Farron?" she asked, wondering what the girl was still doing here. "Get a move on," she instructed, tilting her head toward the door.

Claire adjusted her grip on her racket. Her head stayed down. Her brows came together. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Fang watched Claire, wondering if the girl really meant what she had said, or if she was trying to get off easy. Claire chanced a glance up, and Fang's expression softened.

The blue eyes staring back at her looked as though the girl had betrayed her dearest friend and was truly remorseful for every bit of it. Fang found herself unsure of what to say. She nodded absently.

Claire hung her head and made for the door. As her hand closed around the knob, Coach Yun called out to her. "Farron?"

Claire turned back, regarding her new Coach.

Fang let a small smile show on her lips. "You've got a rare gift. Don't let Nabaat drag you down with her,"

Claire nodded solemnly. "I'll try harder. I promise."

Claire turned the doorknob. "I really am sorry,"

Fang smiled. "I know, Farron. Apology accepted. You're forgiven, but just this once, got it?"

Claire perked up, disbelief widening her eyes. "R-really…?"

Fang nodded, a smirk growing on her lips. "Yeah, but ya still owe me twenty laps, so get a move on!" she chided.

Claire nodded and let herself out.

Fang shook her head with a sigh. She sat down at her desk and began to fill out an incident report, that would have to be included in both girls' progress reports.

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set when Fang finished. She leaned back in her chair and slowly stretched, yawning deeply as she did so. She shook it off and gathered up her duffel bag, slinging it over her shoulder. She turned the lights in the office out, and locked the door. On her way out of the building, she shut lights off in the hallway as she went, and locked the door.

Now all that was left was the courts. The safety lights came on every night right at sundown and were the last lights to shut off, before she could lock up the courts and go home.

As she approached, an interesting sight greeted her. Jihl had either finished her laps, or, more likely, simply had refused to do them. She was laying on her stomach in the middle of court 5, near the net, with her legs bent up at the knees. She was watching Claire, who was still running.

Fang followed her gaze, as Claire came around the corner. The young woman certainly gave it her all, Fang could tell. Claire's face was flushed with the effort, her cheeks stained a fervent color, as every muscle in her body worked to propel her forward, despite the weariness she must be enduring by now.

Fang's gaze intensified as she watched the young woman run toward her, growing ever closer, her young, supple breasts bouncing lightly, her hips swaying, her whole form seemingly encased in an angelic, glowing aura. It took Fang several moments to realize it was just the glow of the fading sun.

Jihl glanced up when she noticed the long shadow beside her. She followed Coach Yun's gaze and smirked when she realized just what was taking place.

_Scandalous! _She thought, _How completely scandalous!_ Jihl filed the information away for later. It could prove useful in the future.

As Claire approached, and slowed her gait when she realized Coach Yun had her bag and keys with her, Jihl drew herself up to stand and walked over to Claire. Bumping into her on her way to get her own bag, which was conveniently placed on the other side of the court, Jihl muttered under her breath, "Coach's Pet.."

"Fuck you.." Claire muttered back,

Jihl gathered up her bag and bumped Claire again. "You wish.." she murmured as she passed by.

Claire shoved her with one arm. Jihl stumbled a bit, but kept her balance and glanced back at Claire, then at Coach Yun, to whom she smiled brightly. Claire grit her teeth.

"Bitch.."

Jihl chose to ignore the final comment and headed out of the fenced in court area, to where her car was parked in the nearby lot.

"Farron?"

Claire stood from where she'd picked up her bag and racket. Turning to the older woman, she glanced up expectantly, brushing a thick strand of slick bangs out of her eyes.

Fang was caught breathless. Sweating, flushed, her pupils dilated from the euphoria that comes after exertion, small chest still heaving gently, her glossed lips shimmering in the sunset …Claire…

…was so heartbreakingly _pretty_… Fang realized. She carefully cleared her throat as she heard Nabaat's car fire up and pull out. She knew as a Coach, she was treading dangerous waters. In her three years as a tennis coach, she remained a steadfast professional, never once indulging in an unprofessional romance with any of her charges. But a girl like Claire…

"Ya need a ride?" she asked, glancing out at the parking lot, where only her own car remained.

"Oh…uh…" Claire fidgeted with her bag and produced a small pink mobile phone. She flicked it open and began to dial, when a familiar SUV pulled into the lot, honking twice to get her attention.

Claire glanced up in the direction of her Dad's vehicle and waved. "I guess not.." she replied.

Fang nodded, "Alright. Take care, then," she said, offering a wave. "I'll see ya next week,"

Claire nodded, and watched as Fang walked to her car. "Coach?" she called out.

Fang turned around. "Hmm?"

Claire smiled brightly, a faint flush staining her cheeks, "Bye." Claire said, offering a return wave, to which Fang smiled and waved back.

"Bye, Farron." She said, putting her driving sunglasses on, as she let herself into her own car. "Get some rest," she called out the window.

Claire nodded and waved one last time before she climbed into the back of her father's vehicle. Fang watched the Farron family pull away, her eyes trained to the backseat. She watched them go, until they were no longer within sight.

_..a girl like Claire…just might be the exception.. _She thought to herself. _In more ways than one._

Fang shook herself from her thoughts and keyed the ignition, firing up her ride. She drove home, taking the scenic route this time. Fang flicked on the radio station and smiled , turning the volume button higher as she recognized an older-but still good-song.

She sang along with the chorus and drummed her fingers along the steering wheel, only having to switch one word.

"Yeah, you…my Blue-Eyed Girl…Sha-la-la-la-la-la-la-la lala-lala…"

* * *

A/N- This was finished around midnight, so I have no idea who does "Brown-Eyed Girl" off the top of my head.


End file.
